Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1887-11-04

ed; and she remembered, too, with
fash of thought, how his initial had
struck and puzzled her when bis card
came with her bouquet to Rose Cottage
it seemed so long, long ago.
They had an awful significance now.
She slowly, yet deliberately, SIS one in
dream, drew the rose diamond ring from
her engaged finger and laid il on the
table.
For moment she struggled against
the benumbed sensation that crept over
her faculties, then the darkness of night
seemed to descend with OBLIVION upon
her, and sinking on the floor in heap
she tainted.
When she recovered it was only for q
time-to fall from one wild and feart-
rending paroxysm Of grief into another,
for Amy was nervous creature, and one
all impulse, who could take neither Joy
nor sorrow in or quietude, with reason
ooh, mamma, this is dreadful" she
mosued, as she nestled childlike IN her
mothers breast, while SILVER shook her
bear it. I never wish to hear Of him
again, of COURSE" she continued in low
and despairing voice. "I tesr Melsnie
already suspects Lonsdale. All men are
alike. Would that women were as false
as they, and had as little memory, too
And yet, mamma, love him STILL" she
added wildly. 81 cannot help it-yet it
is with q different love-still, oh, my God,
when he is the husband of another one
should hate him. know, papa, how sad,
how wicked, how vile this confusion OF
thought is-of right and wrong; but l
cannot yet Conquer myself"
Her once happy face looked strangely
grey, even to her mothers eyes; her
tender lips were quivering like those OF
child when chided; and the hearts Of her
parents were torn with anguish and in
dignation IS they heard her.
"Oh, Horace, Horace" she whispered
to herself, "Why did you teach me to love
you-Wby?"
And hard indeed che found it to uproot
that love from her heart now. Where
were now the tenderness and devotion
that had filed his eyes and thrilled IN his
voice when he babe her farewell-the
farewell that was only to be for little
time?
She wept, and interlaced her slender
fingers in modification and agony. At
last her grief, her excitement at least,
were itself out, and she became quieter.
Thus, without warning, though after
long dread and suspicion, all her happi-
ness in her first and innocent girlish love
was dashed to pieces, like the crystal IN
the basket of AlnGschar; the brightness
OF Joy was gone, and cloud had fallen
on her young life, cloud that might
never pass away.
Mentally, she was recalling over and
over again the words and looks of Horace
Musgrave when she saw him last; with
the ever useless and aching question
why had he deceived her, SO WsntonlY, so
cruelty, when she believed him to be so
loving, so honorable and true?
Now, not until he was forever out Of
her reach, the husband of another-thHt
odious, TOO odious, Hilds Tremayne-did
she know how much she had loved, and
how deeply she now despised him.
The latter emotion was good; the
vicar knew it would certainly kill or cure
the first.
So little time passed inexorably on.
One day, with dim and heavy eyes she
was Illuminating some pious scrolls for
the decoration Of the village school
room, and seeking by this manual occu-
patton to keep her thoughts from this
eveT-achipg subject, when the post
brought to her father T. letter, which he
read and re-read with blankest amaze
ment portrayed in every feature of his
face.
''From whom is your letter, pspa?"
she asked, Just with the faintest interest.
"From that-thst-from Captain Mus
gravel" he snapped out in broken
voice.
"HorGce?"
"Don't call him so, Amy. Yes; he is
mad"
"Paps!"
eyes, must be; else, how dare he write
this to me? After little preamble, he
says: 'We are on our marriage visit 10
Oxford, and shall do myself the pleasure
of calling On you, and explaining without
delay much that must seem mystery TO
Miss Brendon. Tomorrow, at noon, l
trust will suit you"
The vicar tore the letter into minute
shreds and cast them In the fire.
"To-morrow-at noon!" he muttered.
81 shall see him-face TO face-cer-
tsinly."
And as he muttered this he thought Of
how he would crush the recreant under q
torrent OF bitter reproaChes, and felt, like
the Vicar of Wakefeld-when his inter
view with Mr.. Burchell was at hand
that cit is easier 70 conceive than des-
cribe the complicated sensations which
are felt from the pain of @ recent injury
and the pleasure of approaching ven
Horace Musgrsve coming hereto
agsin?" said Mrs. Brendon,
IN utter beWiIderment a. such .consum-
mate effrontery. GLOW dare he-hoW
isre he?'
"Well, il he has befooled our child
orce, he cannot do so again." said the
vicar, as he took huge pincn OF snuff to
soothe his nerves, but did so without
avail.
"But he is coming here-here, he
wrote, to explain all-sll What-the
leartless wretch; or is it to mock the
ruin he has NADER"
Tomorrow you should visit Melanie
Talbot, Amy, and be ont of the way"
SSH DR.. Brendon. "Most cruelty have
you suffered, my poor child, and ss for
this man Musgrave, canuot permit you
to look upon his face agsin."
81 must, papa. shall be brave. You /
will see how brave can be,' said Amy |
"You will only subject yourself to some
lnexsmpled torture and useless NORTH
cation. II must not be-"
The anxiousIy waited for noon OF the
morrow duly came, and Amy felt herself |
Is If turned to stone when an open car i
rage deposited lady and gentleman at
mo r0rch Of the vicaTaoe and she |